


Stitch

by Purseplayer



Series: Klaine Advent 2013 [17]
Category: Glee
Genre: F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-25
Updated: 2013-12-25
Packaged: 2018-01-06 02:40:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 424
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1101416
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Purseplayer/pseuds/Purseplayer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There is a quilt that rests at the foot of the bed in the spare bedroom, because Kurt says it clashes with the rest of the house.  Fill for Klaine Advent Prompt 19: Stitch.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stitch

There is a quilt that rests at the foot of the bed in the spare bedroom, because Kurt says it clashes with the rest of the house.  Thirty-some years ago, Blaine’s grandmother stitched it together—rigid needle, sturdy thread, calloused, love-worn fingers, scraps of fabric from every family member, hallmarks of their lives.

Age four, and Blaine can’t swallow the nasty medicine; he spits it up all over the quilt, earning the wrath of his mother.

Age ten, the blanket absorbs a river—Blaine’s tears the day his grandfather is laid to rest beneath the frozen ground.

Age fifteen, and Kurt visits his house for the first time; they snuggle together under the quilt as they share their first movie.

Age seventeen, the quilt shields them from the floor; Kurt’s head bangs softly against it as Blaine sinks again and again into his welcoming heat.

Age nineteen, he digs it out of his trunk.  Blaine belongs here, but everything in their tiny loft bedroom belongs to Kurt.  Blaine needs something besides Kurt that belongs to _him_.

Age twenty-two, it’s on the couch and off again, on and off, on and off, a silent battle of wills for dominion over their first home.  Finally they sit and talk and learn to compromise.

Age twenty-eight, it’s the first week she’s home with them, and the furnace goes out and it’s January.  Blaine wraps the quilt tight around her small shoulders while Kurt builds the fire, and they huddle close together with their daughter sprawled across their laps.

Age thirty-one, Blaine’s away for work, and Kurt is sick—so sick and miserable, and he wishes his husband was here to take care of him.  He sneaks into the guest room to snatch up Blaine’s quilt, and when he settles with it back in their bed, it’s almost like Blaine is there holding him.

Age thirty-three, the hospital room is stark and cold, already lifeless.  The doctors say she won’t last the night, and Blaine knows she’s been waiting to go for a long time now.  He brings it to her, their quilt, bundles it around her to keep close in a room of unfamiliar things.  Blaine falls asleep beside her bed and he thinks he sees it—his grandfather, young and dapper, come to whisk her away.  They dance around Blaine in the moonlight before he sweeps her off her feet and carries her through the door.

In the morning she is gone, but Kurt is there beside him—forever at Blaine’s side—to hold his hand.


End file.
